"They've nothing on me," he said easily. "I have an absolutely clean record."
It disturbed him, however, to discover that even so minor a member of the gang as Phillopolis was preparing to desert what he evidently regarded as a sinking ship. More than this, it confirmed him in the wisdom of his own precautions, and he was rather glad that he had taken it into his head to visit Phillopolis on that night.
"When do you leave?" he asked.
"The day after to-morrow," said Phillopolis. "I think I'll go down into Italy for a year. I've made enough money now to live without worrying about work, and I mean to enjoy myself."
Pinto looked at the man with interest. Here, at any rate, was one without a conscience. The knowledge that he had accumulated his fortune through the miseries of innocent girls shipped to foreign dance halls did not weigh greatly upon his mind.
"Lucky you!" said Pinto, as they walked out of the club together. "Where do you live, by the way?"
"In Somers Street, Soho. It is just round the corner," said Phillopolis. "Will you walk there with me?"
Pinto hesitated.
"Yes, I will," he said.